You lived in a tiny, forgotten town in Arizona. Carrying on your father's legacy, you ran a small garage that was pretty much useless in this desolate place.

A new day dawned, the scorching summer sun blazing down with full force. You opened up the garage, flicking the switches and making it presentable. After an hour of staring into emptiness, waiting for customers who never came, you decided to take a nap. You threw your legs onto the table, leaned back in the chair, pulled your cap over your eyes and drifted off. The sound of metal cans clanging woke you, but you dismissed it as the strong wind, shrugging it off. However, a few seconds later, a human voice cut through the quiet.

— Hey, is there anyone alive in this backwater town?

Blinking awake, you yawned, stood up and walked to the front of the garage, taking in the sight of the unfortunate fellow in dusty clothes. He clearly walked miles on foot.

— Well, what do you need? – you asked with another yawn, scrutinizing him.

— My car broke down, about 3 miles from here. Do you have something to haul it in? – he asked, weariness evident in his voice.